A Million Gifts
by Medusa Davenport
Summary: Post-manga. Soul is trying to get Maka the perfect birthday gift and keeps coming up short. Meanwhile, the Spartoi group is still trying to keep things together in Death City while Death the Kid steps into his father's shoes. Naturally there will never be a quiet day at DWMA.
1. Sixteen, Part 1

_**Disclaimer:**_ Same as ever, I own nothing.

_**Warnings:**_ I am not, nor have I ever been, a teenaged boy. I've done my best to emulate Soul's tone for his internal monologue, but so as to avoid delving deep into politics, this is mainly his POV.

Currently rated for swearing. Will probably change in the "Eighteen" chapter.

* * *

Sixteen

"YAHOO!" Black*Star's yell resonated all around the street, making the glass of the store windows shiver. "Hey SOUL! Check THIS out!"

Soul rolled his eyes slightly as his friend yelled every other word at the top of his lungs, and hustled along through the glaring crowd of shoppers.

"Yo, keep it down," he muttered. "Half the street's giving us the stinkeye."

Black*Star wasn't listening. He shook a giant stuffed pink bunny at Soul. "Don't you think Maka would love it? It's a perfect gift."

Soul batted the offensive pink fluff out of his face. "Why the hell would you get her a stuffed rabbit?"

"Doesn't she like this crap?"

"Dude... we're in a toy store." Soul sighed.

"Well, what else should I get her? What are you getting her?" Black*Star tilted the bunny from side to side, examining it.

"Um," said Soul. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down as he scuffed a shoe on the floor. He had a really good idea... he hoped. "A book or something."

Black*Star was mercifully oblivious to his discomfort. "That's an AWESOME idea!" He flung the rabbit backwards and sprinted down the street before the shelf crashed down.

"Sorry about him," Soul slouched to the counter as shocked children and their parents stared. He placed a few bills next to the register. "That should cover it."

He hurried after his friend, who had gotten distracted by a cafe. Oh, well. Authentic ramen wasn't something to miss out on. Soul slid onto the stool next to him and ordered. It wasn't too crowded, just three businessmen chatting over lunch.

"Man, it'll be so awesome to have a _real_ party at Kidd's," said Black*Star.

The year after the battle of the moon hadn't been an easy one. Soul had sort of figured that Kidd would step into his father's shoes and everyone would be happy for a bit of peace and quiet. He felt like an idiot, looking back.

It turned out that a lot of people weren't ready to get on the bandwagon and follow Kidd. They thought he was too young, or too impulsive. They pointed out he had only just come into his power, that his alliance with the witches was a terrible idea, and that he was known for his crippling obsession with symmetry.

"Yeah, it's been a while," Soul agreed.

They both fell silent, pondering their friend. It had been a while since they'd even hung out at all, and longer since it hadn't been at some fancy dinner function with dull music and duller people.

The business men kept chatting, and Soul glanced toward them as their words started to register.

"He's not ready to take on this much responsibility. At the very least he needs more advisors."

"If you ask me, that boy shouldn't be in that position at all. Surely the DWMA has moved beyond inherited rulership."

"Really, he's called 'Kidd' for a reason. He's still a child, and he doesn't know a thing about leading others."

Apparently Black*Star heard them, too. "Shut the HELL up!" he yelled, on his feet so fast Soul missed the movement. "You think YOU can do better?"

The businessmen were staring, and so was the old man with the tray of ramen for the boys.

"Black*Star, dude, calm down," Soul said, trying to guide his friend back to the stool. "Look, our ramen's here."

"Stupid assholes," Black*Star growled.

"Yeah, I know, but we'll just make it worse if we pick fights with anyone who badmouths him. It'll make a mess with the politics."

"Politics SUCK," the ninja growled again, and finally picked up his chopsticks.

Soul hated hearing people talk about his friend like that, even if Kidd was a little weird. They all did. But they couldn't just run out and rough up every jackass who complained. It was all about _politics_ now. He was with Black*Star on that front: politics sucked.

He really missed the old days when they were only dealing with evil souls and witches and crazy books.

Most of all, though, he missed Maka. She and Tsubaki had teamed up with Liz and Patti to try and help Kidd with all of the new rivals and critics rising all around. When she was around long enough to talk, it was all about the policies and the political factions, and the millions of things they had to do to handle every new situation that sprang up.

They hadn't had a normal conversation in weeks. Maka was on the fast-track to becoming a real advisor, and Soul knew how uncool jealousy would be. Kidd was throwing her a giant birthday party for her sweet sixteen now, and that was nice as hell, and it would be awesome if there weren't any politicians around. But still, something about it sort of bugged him.

He and Black*Star ate their ramen in silence. The businessmen were smart enough to keep their conversation quieter, but the mood in the little cafe was tense and dreary.

"Come on," Soul said, tossing some money on the counter for the bill. He knew Black*Star didn't have much, and if his family sent him a ridiculously large allowance, he could handle buying lunch for his friends. And the occasional shelf.

"Geez, Soul, how much did you bring to shop for Maka's gift?" Black*Star asked as they headed back down the street.

He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. His face felt hot. Man, he hoped he wasn't blushing. That would be so uncool. He'd never live it down. "Uh, enough? I think."

Black*Star snickered. "What, are you buying her an engagement ring?"

"Shut up."

Of course that made it worse. Soul sighed. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

Blair was bustling around the apartment when he got in, digging through an assortment of shopping bags. She looked up and hissed when she saw Soul.

"Get out of here!"

"Damn it, cat, I _live_ here!" he snapped at her.

"Then go to your room and wait like a good little boy," she said, winking. "You don't get to see until I'm all done."

"Ugh," he sighed. Blair was frustrating even when she wasn't running around the house naked. At least he didn't pop a nosebleed anymore when it happened. She'd made him immune to boobs. Soul couldn't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

He shuffled into his room with his lone shopping bag. Man, he felt lame. Blair had gotten like five bags of stuff, and even though he wasn't dumb enough to think they were all for Maka, he had a sinking feeling that she and the other girls would get his partner better gifts than he had.

Gently, he rifled through the fluffy layers of tissue paper until he found the velvety box buried inside. Somehow he got it out without ripping all of the shimmering paper, but his sleeve was covered in an iridescent sprinkling of glitter. Trying to brush it off just spread it up his arm and all over his hand.

"Damn it," he muttered.

He opened the little box and stared inside. A tiny silver piano nestled in the satiny padding, the delicate silver chain gently folded around it. Would Maka like it? He'd felt so sure when he thought of the idea, but now as he stared at his purchase, he wondered if it was the right choice after all.

"Blair!" he yelled.

The cat-turned-woman shoved his door open and hopped onto his chest. "Oooh, Soooul, craving some attention?"

Considering she was a cat, he didn't feel bad shoving her off. "Stop it. I need help with something important."

Blair gave him a deliberate wink. "Is Soul feeling lonely sleeping all alone?"

"Ugh, shut it for a minute," he grumbled. "I need help picking out a birthday present for Maka."

Soul honestly hadn't thought she could be more obnoxious than the exaggerated flirting, but the shrill squeal and outbreak of bouncing might've actually beaten her previous records. "Okay, okay, just stop with your noises."

"Come on! Maka is in the bath," Blair said, hopping to her feet and yanking on his hand. She pondered for a moment. "But Soul has to get Blair something, too."

He sighed. It was time to go back out into the fashion district, and quite possibly he was being dragged along by someone even worse to shop with than Black*Star.

Was he really this desperate to get Maka the perfect gift? In short, yes. He wasn't about to overthink it any more than he already was.

Feeling miserably uncool, he followed Blair out into the streets, ignoring her chatter and shaking his head when she tried to drag him into lingerie stores that spanned the whole scale from classy to sleazy. She kept insisting that he should get Maka a really cute outfit or a pretty dress or something, but he knew that somehow it would end up offending her. Probably even more if he let Blair pick it out.

"What about something like a book? Or a couple books, maybe?" he asked.

Blair considered it for a moment, tapping a pink fingernail on her chin. "Hmmmm. Maka does like to read a lot, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, she's a real bookworm, isn't she?" he chuckled awkwardly. Nowadays she was more of a rising star, leaving him behind as she soared into the political world as gracefully as she wielded him. His face was hot again and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Ooooh, look at Soul blushing!" she grew particularly feline as she pawed at him. "Are you thinking of getting her a _naughty_ book?"

"No way!" Soul yelled, stumbling away from the sex-crazed cat-lady. "That would be super uncool."

Of course that made it worse. Soul sighed. This was going to be a longer day.

* * *

Once they were back at the apartment, Soul was shoved into his room again, where he flopped down on the bed with his second present. He thought he heard Maka yelp at Blair, and fancied he also heard a bit of muffled swearing, too. Snickering, he thought, _I love it when she says bad words._

The thought made him bolt upright, eyes bulging in shock. _Crap_, he thought, _No way._ There was no way that he loved things about her, was there? But as soon as he asked himself that, some evil runaway part of his mind supplied him with a list of things he loved about her.

Her hair, her smile, resonating with her, the way she listened to him play, that first moment she'd asked him to be her weapon, the way she wielded him, the way her hugs felt, the way she cooked, the food she cooked, how she smelled, how she wore those silly odangos and her 'study pajamas' when she was cramming for a test, how she stepped on his feet when they danced, how she always let him eat all the raw sushi, how she hid his hair gel, how she nagged him about cleaning his room, how she always had a book on hand to smack someone with, how smart she was, her legs, how she walked around making breakfast half-asleep, how she always brought him coffee right as he came out of his room in the morning, how- _how the hell did I get to this point?_

The goblin? It had to be the goblin. Right?

Soul "Eater" Evans, general cool guy musician, a Death Scythe since he was fifteen, desired as a partner by half the girls in the DWMA, panicked.

He fumbled through the new bag and pulled out the second present. A new set of clips for her hair with the DWMA skull, carved from ivory and set with onyx eyes. This was something he'd been thinking about giving her for a while but wasn't sure how much she'd like it. _Crap._ That was a terrible idea for a gift! What had he been thinking.

Throwing his legs off the bed, he grabbed his phone and dialed his best hope: Tsubaki.

"Hey, uh, Tsubaki? Do you think you could meet me at the shopping district?" he asked, already struggling into his coat one-handed and walking out the door.

Soul jogged outside and headed for the stores yet again.

The poster was so bright red and yellow that it caught his notice slightly from the corner of his eye as he went past. He skidded to a halt and his eyes narrowed as he read the text.

**Death the Kidd is no leader!  
**_How can a spoiled daddy's boy run our city  
when he's busy making friends with witches?  
The time has come to STAND UP for our rights!  
We deserve to choose our own leader!  
_**DEMAND A VOTE!**

Baring his teeth, he tore the poster off the wall and threw it in a puddle. He stalked to the shopping district, his mood foul. He'd been shopping twice already, hadn't found the right gift for Maka, had spent half his month's allowance already, and that was the second time that he'd come across someone claiming Kidd wasn't good enough to rule.

Tsubaki stood in front of a boutique in a skirt and blouse, looking like a businesswoman. Soul raised a brow at her.

"Oh, sorry, I was over at Kidd's. It's a real mess right now with Maka taking the day off and Liz and Patti were swamped..." she trailed off and gave him a smile. "I'm actually really glad you called. Now everyone's calling it a night and getting ready for the party."

Soul managed a weak smile. "Thanks for helping me out, Tsubaki," he said. He never hung out with her one-on-one. She was nice and all, but just... so quiet. Without Black*Star around to contrast her, she sort of seemed incomplete.

"Anyway, I was thinking about getting Maka something from here," she said. "She and I go here sometimes when we go out. There are books and jewelry and some cute clothes and lots of other stuff. I'm sure you'll find something perfect for her."

His face was hot again, and he was going to chafe the back of his neck raw if he kept rubbing it. "Cool," he mumbled.

She looked at him with a kind smile. "I know you'll choose something good, Soul. You're the closest person in the world to her. Just pick from the heart and you'll be fine."

He blinked. It wasn't what he was expecting from Tsubaki. She was so quiet and shy, he hadn't thought she'd offer advice. But she had, and moreover, it was _good_ advice. Damned good. After the shock wore off, he gave her a grin. "Let's see what this place has got."

Somehow, that made it better. Soul grinned. It was a long day, sure, but at least it was getting a bit better.

* * *

Soul had barely walked in the door when his phone rang. He juggled his bags trying to reach it and managed to get it on the last ring.

"Yo," he said, cradling it between his ear and shoulder.

"Good, I'm glad I caught you," Kidd's voice crackled through the speaker. "I need to ask you a favor."

"What's up?" Soul asked as he maneuvered into his room to deposit the bags on his bed.

"Well, I have something special planned, but it's taking longer to set up than I thought. Do you think you could stall Maka for about thirty minutes or so?"

Suddenly it felt like Soul's stomach was a tight knot and his throat was really dry. Kidd had... something special? For Maka?

"Soul, are you still there?"

"Uh, yeah. No problem," he rasped.

"Excellent. I'll see you there." Kidd hung up and Soul dropped the phone.

He crawled onto his bed and pulled out the most recent present, cradling it carefully. The box was polished wood, a shining dark golden color, with simple, elegant carvings. He'd even managed to get her name etched on the front edge.

When he opened it, music played and soft red velvet folded and curled into various jewelry compartments. There was a photo frame on the lid, empty for now.

What the hell had he been thinking? Maka had been spending so much time with Kidd, of course they must like each other. Soul had waited too long to figure it out and now the better guy was about to make his grand gesture. No matter how wealthy his family was, Soul couldn't afford anything like Kidd could.

Cool guys didn't cry. But when he shut his eyes, they burned hot and wet. Maybe, when it came to Maka Albarn, he wasn't such a cool guy after all.


	2. Sixteen, Part 2

**Disclaimer:** I still own nothing.

_**Warnings:**_ Angsting and broody teenagers (sometimes even wanksting), language, the non-graphic fantasies of teenagers, Male Gaze, Female Gaze, implied masturbation, Blair's talent for turning _everything_ into innuendo

* * *

Sixteen (Part 2)

"Soooooul! Are you getting ready?" Blair's voice singsonged through his door.

His eyes were still gooey and sore, his cheeks sticky with tears. Soul lifted his head and stared dully at it, still lying on the bed surrounded by lame gifts for Maka that she'd probably hate.

"I'm getting to it," he grumbled.

"Hurry up! You'll be late. Maka's almost ready," Blair added the last one in a more sultry undertone, and his chest thudded.

The horrible goblin in his soul (because his soul wouldn't do that on its own, right? _Right?_) conjured up an image of Maka in some of the lingerie Blair had tried to convince him to purchase. He sat there, stunned, until the ticking sound of blood dripping from his nose broke the fantasy.

Crap. Maka would see the shirt in the wash and want to know why it was covered in blood, and then she'd think he'd gotten a nosebleed from Blair and then she'd be furious at him and definitely choose Kid over him. His thoughts carried on in their destructive spiraling sprint. He was doomed. All the gifts in the world couldn't fix this situation. He was about to lose Maka for good and it was all Blair's fault, dammit.

"Shut up, you stupid cat!" Soul hollered. "I haven't even gotten to use the bathroom!"

"Nyaaa, someone's feeling catty," Blair called through the door.

Soul had to move fast. The bloody shirt was an issue. He yanked it over his head and wadded it up, stuffing it under his bed in hopes that it wouldn't be discovered. There was already so much crap under it that Maka never nosed around there.

He heard a crinkling of paper and a sheaf of hour-developed photos slid out across the floor.

"_Shit,_" he muttered, turning to shove them hastily back into hiding. He paused as his eyes came to rest on one of the photos, something Liz had taken while they were all in the park about a year ago, before things had gotten bad and everyone had started drifting apart.

He and Maka were looking at each other and grinning, their foreheads almost touching, their expressions fierce as if ready for a battle. If he remembered correctly, they had been about to face off in a burger-cooking contest. That was the day he'd lost half an eyebrow, which was still better than Black*Star, who'd lost half of each eyebrow.

After a moment, Soul picked up all of the photos, an idea forming in his mind. He kept that one of him and Maka separate, pausing to slip it in the frame under the lid of the jewelry box. Maybe it would remind her of the good times they'd had. And maybe, just maybe...

"What are you doing in there, Soul?" this time he could hear Maka's voice. "The bathroom's all yours now."

He rushed over to the door and flung it open, only to freeze in shock at the sight of his partner.

Maka wore a black dress, not the kind with puffy sleeves and a swinging skirt like she used to. No, this dress was not something a little girl would wear. It clung to her figure, and he realized with a rush of heat that she had a _really nice_ figure. Maybe she didn't have giant basketball-sized boobs, but somehow she'd developed curves without him realizing it, hidden under her Spartoi uniform and those long jackets she seemed to live in. All of the fighting and exercise had built lean muscle that formed sleek lines from chest to hips.

The dress itself was the kind that just had one strap around the back of the neck connecting both sides of the front. Damn, he forgot the name of that style- harness? Halter? Yeah, that was it. Much more importantly, it plunged halfway to her navel, with some see-through black veil fabric that didn't hide how she obviously didn't have a bra on, but did, in fact, have boobs. Not very big, but from what he could see, they were round and perky.

Not to mention how her long legs looked, being hugged by the fabric instead of hidden, her calf muscles standing out from the strappy, deadly-looking high-heeled shoes she was wearing.

Soul's fingers twitched. _Oh crap._ He hadn't even looked at her face and he could feet his cheeks getting hotter and the inside of his nose getting warm and wet.

There was no choice but to run for it. He knew when it was time to make a strategic retreat, and now was _definitely_ the time. He covered the lower half of his face with one hand and yanked the door shut with the other.

"DON'T LOOK!" he yelled, as loud as Black*Star, before barreling past her toward the bathroom, eager to turn his back to her. It knocked her sideways and she stumbled in the pointy shoes with their flimsy straps, her arms pinwheeling for a second before one of her hands caught his arm for support and her fingers closed around his forearm.

_Shit_, he thought, just a second before she yanked the hand away from his face. The sudden weight made him stumble, too, and he realized that he had to choose between catching her or falling down with her.

Longtime instincts to protect her from harm, as well as the potential horror of _falling on top_ _of her_ in this state, made him swing around to face her. He planted a foot between hers as his arm shot for her waist. And then he yanked her toward him as he shifted his weight to stand upright.

He ended up holding her small waist tightly, their chests pressed together, and their faces very close. Now he couldn't look down at the revealing dress, only see her face with the smattering of (surprisingly classy) makeup, just enough to make her eyes smokey and sexy and her lips pinker. Soft, still-warm curls hung around her face, appropriate for her angelic-looking Gregori soul. Her cheeks glowed bright pink, the flush tapering to meet on the bridge of her nose.

Somehow, mercifully, the shock had halted his nosebleed. Now all that was left was Maka, her body already against his and her face and mouth almost against his, and he realized that her hand wasn't gripping his forearm but was sliding up the outside of his upper arm very slowly. His hand, which had hovered uncertainly just above her shoulder, shifted (obviously outside of his control) until his fingertips could skim delicately over her curls, barely touching them.

"Ooooh, this is even better than a dirty storybook, Soul!" Blair sang.

Maka jumped back from him, the pretty flush on her face getting brighter as she straightened her dress. "Th-thank you for catching me, Soul," she said, before hurrying toward the kitchen.

Soul glared at Blair, who was back in cat form, probably so she could give her most obnoxiously smug feline smile to him. "One of these days I'm gonna dump you at the pound," he growled, before stomping off to the bathroom.

A puff of smoke changed her back into the witch costume, which he realized was so much tackier in how revealing it was than Maka's dress, and he hustled toward the sanctuary of the shower as he realized she was going to say something absolutely awful.

"Don't take too long being a dirty boy before you get clean, Soul!" she giggled, so loudly there was absolutely no doubt Maka had overheard that in the kitchen, on the other side of the apartment. His face burned, but this time he was pretty sure at least half of it was anger, not embarrassment. Okay, maybe less than half.

* * *

Maka teetered into the kitchen on her heels, trying her hardest to forget how hot Soul's skin had felt under her hand and through her dress, or how his red eyes raked over her before he knocked her over, or how his face had been so close she could feel his breath coming in uneven huffs across her lips. She had forgotten to breathe the whole time he'd been holding her, right up until Blair came in to interrupt.

She couldn't possibly face him after this. How was she supposed to get the image of his shirtless torso out of her head? How long would the warmth on the front of her chest last, where it had been pressed to his naked skin? How long were her lips going to tingle?

Blair shouted about Soul being dirty in the shower and Maka felt her eyes bulge in shock. The suggestion from the dirty-minded cat made her think about Soul in the shower. No, she wasn't going to think about it, she was- she was _getting a nosebleed?_

"Makaaaaa!" Blair hurried over, tsking and fussing to dab her nose with a paper towel. "Don't bleed on your pretty new dress."

"I- I wasn't thinking about anything, I-" she stuttered.

Blair cackled. "Blair saw how Soul and Maka were being naughty in the middle of the living room."

"Nothing happened!" Maka yelled. Anger helped get rid of the images. "You came in and interrupted before anything could happen."

That only seemed to amuse Blair even more. "Does Maka want to skip her party to go help Soul get clean?" she purred.

Maka felt her cheeks and ears burn. "Don't be disgusting!" she yelled.

It was bad enough that she'd taken the day off to spend it being 'pampered' by Blair. It had involved much more painful things like eyebrow waxes and pedicures and facials than anything relaxing, and then there had been the shopping. Today she should've been at Kid's office, helping Liz and Patti and Tsubaki with the newest crisis.

A democratic vote for the new leader of Death City was a perfectly reasonable thing for the people to want. Right now it was just a few flyers in the streets, but something like that would go viral the moment Kid's critics and political rivals picked it up. He was stuck in an ethical dilemma about how to respond, and the office was working overtime to keep things as quiet as possible without actually issuing gag orders to the media.

Things were getting worse, and tonight was at best the calm before the storm. She knew that there would be so much tension and worry for the future that the party would be stilted and uncomfortable. Now she was dreading it even more because there was just _no way_ that Soul hadn't noticed how she was blushing and leaning against him. He had to know how much of a crush she had on him, after all these years. If he liked her back, he would've said or done something long ago.

No, that moment hadn't been anything to him, just helping his partner after knocking her over. He'd shoved her in the first place.

As always, the best way to process her feelings for Soul was to get angry at him.

He was so damn cool he was downright cold sometimes. Frustrated tears rushed into her eyes and she felt Blair's squashy chest press against her ear as the cat hugged her.

"Why is Maka crying? Does Maka not like Soul?" Blair sounded confused, but it was soothing to have someone hug her and rub her back like her mama used to. "Shh, shhhh. Maka is going to ruin her make-up."

She sniffled and straightened up after a few minutes, reaching to wipe her eyes. Blair swatted her hand down and took another paper towel to dab her eyes carefully. "I don't even want to go to this party," she sniffed. "Everything's going wrong and everyone will be upset and distracted."

Blair hugged her again. "Everyone loves Maka and wants her to be happy. Soul is just being a dumb boy." She cupped Maka's chin in her hands and looked at her face. "Maka works so hard and helps everyone so much. Tonight is Maka's night. Maka needs a break and we want her to be happy, because she's so kind and pretty. Even Soul noticed."

In the end, it took Blair longer to fix Maka's make up than it did for Soul to get ready.

"Didn't you alreadyhave that _done_?" he grumbled, standing in the doorway with his arms folded, refusing to look in her direction.

Miserable, Maka tried not to notice how his jacket didn't hang off his shoulders the way it used to, or think about how the muscles in his broad shoulders looked without any fabric in the way. She sat as still as she could while Blair swept mascara over her lashes and dabbed liner on her lids while Soul huffed impatiently from time to time.

"All done!" Blair chirped happily. "Now you two be good at the party! Blair has a hot date tonight." She winked and skipped off to her shopping bags, which Maka knew were full of sexy lingerie and revealing clothes.

Soul looked at her, his expression impossible to read. "Come on, let's get going," he muttered. "You're already late to your own party."

He held a hand out to her and Maka took it before she could think about it. His eyes widened for a second, meeting hers, and she was unable to breathe again. Then his fingers tightened around hers and he tugged her after him, unsteady on her heels.

When she dared a glance up at his face, she saw that he was smirking slightly.


	3. Party, Part 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Soul Eater. In fact, it could be deeply philosophically debated whether or not I own my soul or not.

**Warnings: **language, teenagers be so angsting, teen drinking, plot in what was supposed to be a series of one-shots...

**Thank You for the reviews!** Especially Ynot7, who asked about other characters like Black*Star and Tsubaki raising Angela, and the impact of Chrona's sacrifice on folks, especially Maka. (Are you a lit teacher? :P You should be!)

* * *

Party

Maka's hand was warm and slim and calloused against Soul's palm, her slender fingers strong as they fit between his like puzzle pieces. His heart thumped with nervous energy as they walked out to his car, and he struggled to find the right words to say.

"You look, um," he stumbled over the words, "I mean, uh, your face and hair... um, Blair did a good job with you."

He felt her tense up beside him. "Well, pretty girls know how to do that stuff," she said stiffly.

If only he had a smooth line for her there. Anything, really, to get the point across that he was trying to compliment her. "You could know it, too," he mumbled. "I mean, if you wanted. Not that you need to want it. Or need it. Or, um..."

She eyed him strangely as they approached his Camry. "Um, okay," she said, sounding confused.

Damn it, he was being so uncool. Soul glanced up at the car and opened the passenger door for Maka. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he looked at her smokey green eyes. He wanted to say that he loved her and she was the prettiest girl around and he didn't want her to leave him for Kid and he wanted to dance with her all night no matter how much she stepped on his feet. "What I'm trying to say is that you look cool," he managed.

"Oh," she said. Did she sound disappointed? Crap, had he disappointed her somehow? "Thanks."

Maka started to climb into the car and Soul scrambled to help her in, swinging an arm around her waist in hopes of recreating another moment like the one in the hallway when they had been so close. He succeeded in yanking her down.

"Ow, Soul, what the hell are you doing?" she yelped as she stumbled, her back bumping against his chest.

His arms tightened around her and he caught himself on one foot just as she lost her balance, her long legs tangling with his planted feet.

The smell of her hair and skin filled his nose, and he could feel her hipbone under one hand. The other hand had somehow tangled with hers and wrapped across her chest so he was hugging her, his head bent next to hers so he could feel the warmth of her cheek beside his. Her back leaned against his torso, her bare shoulders against his chest and close enough he would only have to tip his chin down to kiss her collarbone.

That onslaught of sensations alone was enough to overwhelm Soul, but it was her butt, pressed firmly against his hips, that became the focus of his attention. Somehow this was more intimate than the way they had stood in the hallway, holding onto one another.

She took a deep, ragged breath. The motion lifted her chest against his forearm and he tried to think about anything else.

Oh, no. Nononononocrapno. This couldn't be happening. He released Maka and staggered back, hoping she hadn't felt it. The sudden movement made her tumble, and he lunged to catch her too late. Her ankle twisted around in the strappy shoe and she yelped in pain as she hit the ground.

"Oh, crap, no," he gasped, kneeling down next to her to try and help. This was entirely his fault. "Maka, I'm so sorry."

Maka swatted his hand away. "Haven't you done enough damage for one night, Soul?" she asked bitterly. Her eyes glimmered in a familiar way that signaled tears. "Just get me to my stupid birthday party so we can get this night over with."

"I'm so sorry," he murmured again. He managed to help her up and get her into the car, but the drive to Kid's place was silent and miserable.

He had ruined everything. Now she'd pick Kid for sure. Not that he had ever even been in the running, he realized in despair. He'd never done anything to try and win Maka's affection. He'd just assumed, all this time, that he already had it. But maybe he never had, maybe he'd been lying to himself.

He remembered how she had been right after the battle of the moon, crying about Chrona's sacrifice and staying in her room for almost a week. That guy had intruded on them so easily, in spite of all the horrible crap he'd done, and Maka had given him all her attention. In the end, he had to give Chrona credit for what he'd done, but Soul also sort of hated him for hurting Maka as much as he had.

As they pulled up to Kid's he dared a look at her. "I'm- I'm really sorry, Maka," he said again. "I shouldn't have let you fall."

She looked at him with a frown for a moment, and then shook her head. "It's fine. My dress isn't ripped or anything," she answered.

"That's not the point," he said. "I should've held on." His mouth was dry and he had a lump in his throat. "To you. I should've held on to you." He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles felt like they'd split and bleed, afraid to look at her again. The silence drew out between them as he parked. He half expected her to jump out of the car and disappear into the crowd that was milling inside, but she didn't move to open her door.

"You can't protect me from you, Soul," she said quietly.

"Maka, please, I didn't mean to hurt you," he begged. He turned to look at her, his eyes aching as he saw the devilish dress and the angelic face. "I just didn't want-"

"To give me the wrong idea?" she finished for him, her tone clipped. "It's okay. Hint taken."

Now she pulled open the door and got out, limping in her heels up to the door. Soul just sat there, his mind jumbled as he tried to understand what she'd said.

When it clicked, he jumped out and ran for the entrance to Kid's mansion.

* * *

"Wow, Maka, you look so beautiful," Tsubaki exclaimed. She looked even more gorgeous than ever, her ample cleavage exposed by a scoop-necked dress in a lovely cream fabric. Her hair hung loose, swinging black and glossy around her shoulders. Even Black*Star kept looking up from the buffet table to eye her between bites of food, not noticing as Angela grabbed the sweets.

"Seriously, girl," Liz swooped in with a glass of champagne, "There's no way Soul will be able to keep his mitts off you." She was also looking her best, with her hair knotted in a symmetrical chignon and her blue dress belted with a gold chain.

Maka felt her face heat up. "Shh, someone will hear you," she said. It had been such a mistake to let Liz known about her crush on Soul, but there hadn't been a choice. She'd overheard Maka and Tsubaki talking about it over lunch one day, and there was no turning back after that.

Liz thrust the glass of champagne at her. "Loosen up, sweetheart," she said. "Have a drink and mingle some."

"Well, I guess one glass can't hurt," Maka said, eyeing the bubbly drink. She glanced around the room and saw Soul at the door. Her face heated up and she gulped down half the champagne.

"Be careful, Maka," Tsubaki said worriedly. "You don't want to get drunk."

"Maybe I do," Maka said glumly. Both Liz and Tsubaki turned to stare at her.

"What happened?" the brunette asked.

Maka shook her head, feeling her curls brush her shoulders. "It... it was just... Soul was acting so weird today," she confessed.

Liz and Tsubaki exchanged glances.

"Tell us everything," Liz said, taking her by the arm and leading her toward one of the rooms off the main hall.

After finding a room that didn't have someone else in it- Kim was crying about something with Jackie, and in the next room they found Ox making out with some girl they hadn't seen before and figured out why Kim was upset- Maka told them everything: both occasions when Soul had caught ahold of her, and then the way he'd dropped her like a hot potato the second time.

By the time she finished explaining, Liz had brought two more glasses of champagne and Maka was starting to feel a bit light-headed.

"I don't know, Maka," Tsubaki said doubtfully. "I wasn't going to say anything, but he called me this afternoon and asked for help getting you a gift, even though he went with Black*Star earlier."

"Why would he do that?" Maka asked, her mind not wrapping around it.

"Well, duh," said Liz. "He likes you. Why else would he get so worked up over what to get you?"

"I don't understand. Why would he drop me in the parking lot, then?"

Liz and Tsubaki glanced at each other. Maka remembered how they had been the last two to change back in the book of Lust. Maybe they had some insight for why the almost-intimate moments had been ruined so suddenly.

"When you were leaning against his back in the parking lot, did you feel anything... poking you?"

Maka thought back, staring into her champagne glass. "Well, I think I felt his phone bump against my leg? I guess. He dropped me as soon as it happened."

Tsubaki hid a smile, but Liz laughed. "That wasn't his phone, sweetie."

Confused, Maka took another sip of champagne. At least she wasn't sad anymore. If anything, she felt sort of giddy. Maybe her friends were right and Soul did have feelings for her, and was just being... weird or something. Maybe he was as confused as she was, even. "What was it?" she asked, curious.

"Um," Tsubaki coughed. "I should go check up on Black*Star and Angela." She hustled out of the room while Liz snickered.

"You'll figure it out," Liz said. She stood up and held a hand out to Maka. "Come on, you haven't even seen Kid yet. You should at least save a dance for him, seeing how he put all this together."

"You're right," Maka said. She couldn't believe how rude she'd been to her friend. "Let's go find him."

She stood up, tossed back the rest of her glass, and let Liz drag her back out into the party.

* * *

For the first thirty minutes, he couldn't find Maka anywhere. Finally he managed to find Liz at the bar, getting two glasses of champagne.

"Hey, have you seen Maka?" he asked.

Liz grinned. "Yeah, I'm just getting her a drink," she said. "We're busy talking about you."

"What?" Soul tried to keep his voice down, but a few people looked in their direction anyway. "What did she say? Is everything alright? Is she mad at me?"

"Look, from what she's telling us, it sounds like there's some mixed signals going on." Liz eyed him over the rim of her champagne glass. "So what's up?"

Soul looked at his feet. "I just... I dunno. I don't want her to get mad at me or anything."

"So just be honest with her," Liz shrugged. "If you don't, you guys will never get it together."

"I just need a chance to talk with her," Soul said desperately. "Will she talk to me, do you know?"

She answered with another shrug. "Probably. Just give her a little space. I'll have her back out here dancing in no time. Especially if she keeps drinking champagne."

He wasn't so sure what he thought about Maka drinking. On the one hand, she might not remember what he'd said to her. On the other, if he told her he liked her and she didn't like him back, maybe she wouldn't remember. Either way, he knew better than to try and butt heads with her when she got stubborn about something.

"Thanks, Liz," he said. "Hey, um, could you do me a favor and not tell her I asked you about her?"

Liz rolled her eyes slightly. "Alright, whatever. Just don't wait too long."

While he waited for Liz to bring Maka out, he occupied himself with Black*Star at the buffet table. He picked at his food and ended up letting the ninja eat most of it, anxious to see Maka.

After another twenty minutes of waiting, he glimpsed her across the dance floor. He handed off his plate to Black*Star without looking and made his way through the crowd, trying to reach her so he could get his chance to say something.

Dancers swirled in the way and he grumbled as he tried to make his way around them, jostling between couples until he saw Maka again.

She was smiling, her eyes glittering with the champagne and happiness as she danced with Death the Kid.

Soul's heart sank. He was too late. He'd had more than one good chance tonight and he'd managed to botch them one after the other. Of course she picked Kid over him. He'd messed up too many times, and now she wasn't going to cut him any more breaks.

He'd lost her.

Unable to watch the couple dancing past, he turned away shuffled onto an empty balcony to be alone.

* * *

"I know it's your birthday," Kid said as they danced, his face serious as ever, "But we need to call the staff in tomorrow for a meeting. Tsubaki said we could push it back to noon if you need the morning off."

Maka's bubbly brain reeled to figure out what was happening. Oh yes, the vote.

"Has it gotten worse?" she asked. She'd been gone all day, and she hadn't even thought to ask Liz and Tsubaki about the political situation. So much could happen in a few short hours.

Kid grimaced and spun them in a tight, orderly circle. "They have a twitter feed, and last we checked it only had a few dozen followers. Not even fifty. No press yet, but the night's still young." He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, Maka was surprised to see how tired he looked. He'd aged so much in the past year, and he was barely eighteen.

"I know you'll handle it well, Kid," she said, hoping to cheer him up a bit. "Your agenda is solid and you know your facts."

"People want more than facts and figures from their leader. They want charisma, someone they can follow," Kid said, sounding a bit bleak. "I don't exactly inspire the masses."

"That's not true," Maka argued. "You've inspired all of us here at the DWMA. You have our full support because you _earned _it. You've fought as hard as any of us. Harder, even. You've made sacrifices and alliances and gone out on a limb over and over to keep all of us safe."

The song ended and Kid bowed neatly. "Thank you for the dance, Maka," he said, giving her a faint smile. "And for the encouragement."

"It's all true," she said.

He needed a break, obviously. But when could a leader really have a break? Today was hers, but when did his come? A small voice inside her pointed out that maybe being voted out of office would be good for Kid, because he'd have the chance to enjoy himself. She quickly crushed it down, guilty at the traitorous notion that her friend shouldn't lead them.

She watched him move through the crowd, offering a few words here and there, exchanging nods and handshakes until he reached Liz and Patti, who murmured something to him. Kid glanced back at the party with that tired stare and Maka knew that the voter movement had gotten out. Tomorrow would be bad.

"Can I have the next dance?" a voice asked from behind her. Maka turned to see Harvar there, immaculate in a pale gray suit, his emotionless gaze fixed on her face.

Maka had never been particularly close with Harvar or his meister, but he was part of Spartoi and part of their team. She knew he'd done his part like everyone else, and even if they weren't close, they were friends. They shared the bond of combat together, and she wasn't going to ignore a friend, especially when they all needed each other's support so much.

"Of course," she smiled. But rather than starting a new song, the DJ addressed the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he called, setting a rhythmic beat up behind the words. "Tonight we have a very special gift planned for the birthday girl."

To her horror, spotlights began swirling around the dance floor until they settled on her, eliciting applause and catcalls. Mortified, Maka tried to wave weakly. She was suddenly very grateful to feel Harvar's hand press against the small of her back to steady her.

"What a beauty she is, too!" the DJ proclaimed, to another round of whistling and cheering. "That's a lucky guy who's got her for a girlfriend."

Harvar gave her a tight-lipped but sympathetic smile as she realized that everyone thought he was her boyfriend. Maka glanced around the crowd, half-blind from the spotlights, hoping to see some familiar faces. She caught sight of Black*Star, who gave her a giant, cheesy grin and a thumbs-up. Somehow it wasn't very reassuring.

She wanted to see if Soul was out there, if he could somehow rescue her from this disaster, but he was nowhere to be found. The DJ continued his humiliating speech.

"This lovely lady is so special that even our city's leader, Death the Kid, has something planned to sweep her off her feet." The political advisor in her cringed at that line. It made it sound like Kid was trying to move in on another guy's girlfriend, which would get spun into him being a home-wrecker and a sleaze and used as further evidence of his inability to responsibly lead the city.

Maka did notice Kid muttering something to Liz, who nodded and shoved her champagne at her little sister before striding toward the DJ, cool and businesslike.

Liz snagged the microphone from the DJ before he could utter another word, flashing a charming grin at the crowd. She had taken over a lot of the public relations duties for Kid, and with good reason. Her level head, pleasant drawl, and southern sass were the perfect combination when dealing with the press. "Without further ado," she cried, "We present the city's gift to Maka Albarn."

The DJ seemed confused for a moment, and then annoyed. Liz ignored him, motioning toward the red curtain behind the DJ booth. The spotlights followed and Maka breathed a sigh of relief.

At Liz's cue, the curtains drew back to revel a statue carved from marble. Maka's eyes burned with a rush of tears she thought she'd finished shedding as Chrona's visage stared out over the crowd. He was gone forever she knew, but the pain of his sacrifice hadn't fully healed yet. She found herself gripping someone's hand and glanced over to see Harvar still at her side.

"Maka, you saw the good in Chrona when everyone else doubted him. Your faith and friendship were what gave him the strength to save all of us," Liz continued, her tone shifting to gentle praise. "We can't honor Chrona in person, but we can honor his memory- and the memory of the friendship you shared- tonight and every day from this day forward. This statue will commemorate his heroism and your friendship, and it will be placed in the courtyard of the DWMA, where it can overlook the city that Chrona saved."

It was so beautiful, and so thoughtful, Maka hated herself for crying. But she felt the tears pricking through her mascara anyway as the crowd applauded. She couldn't take anymore.

"I'm so sorry, I just need to get some air," she gasped, releasing Harvar's hand and tottering toward the door.

She could hear Liz's speech continuing, and could tell from the older girl's tone that she was stalling a bit. They must've noticed Maka leaving, and her guilt doubled. They probably thought she hated it, but nothing could be further from the truth.

The door to a dim balcony loomed ahead of her and Maka hurried through it, glancing over her shoulder at the party as her heels clattered forward. Her head smacked squarely into something solid, covered in silk, and then she felt hands gripping her arms.

"Easy there." She tilted her head back; she would know that voice anywhere.

"Soul," she whispered, relieved and terrified and embarrassed all at once.

"I'm sorry-" they both began speaking at once, then stopped at the same moment.

"Maka, I really screwed up tonight," he said, his hands still on her arms. "I should've been there for you and I wasn't."

"No," she shook her head. "I've been such a brat. Everyone's been going out of their way to make today nice and I haven't appreciated it the way I should. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"Don't be," he said. "I've been acting like an idiot, and I shouldn't treat you like that."

"And I shouldn't treat you like that, either," she answered. She slid her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "You're my partner and I need you."

For a second he didn't react, but then he hugged her back, his hands tight around her waist. Maka relaxed in his hold and breathed in his scent: soap and deodorant and incense from his favorite record stores and of course the underlying metallic scent that defined him, not just as a weapon but as _her_ weapon, Soul. One of his hands ran up her back to the bare skin of her shoulderblades and she felt his cheek against her temple.

"I need you, too, Maka," he said.

He ran his hand over her back, to the side of her cheek, lifting his head as he tilted hers back to look in her eyes. The blood-red glint of his irises flickered as he studied her face for a moment. "I don't want you to date Kid," he said suddenly.

Puzzled, she frowned, and then his lips pressed against hers.

It was what she wanted, what she'd dreamed about. But she could taste hard liquor on his breath and she was still confused about what he'd said. Not dating Kid? Was he just doing this so he could make sure she didn't date anyone?

Maka's hands found his shoulders and she pushed him back. "What are you doing, Soul?" she demanded.

"Um, I'm... kissing you?" he frowned, obviously not following her.

She shook her head. "You're drunk," she said flatly.

"Well you drank, too," he protested, taking a step back and assuming a surly posture. "I had to keep up."

"How are we supposed to get home?" she asked. "You _drove_ us here."

Soul scowled and she knew he hadn't thought of that. "Maybe your _boyfriend_ can send a limo for you," he retorted, managing to make it sound like an insult.

Her face felt hot as she glared at him. "You're so immature," she snapped. "Do you even know what Kid did for me? For Chrona?"

"Not that guy _again_," Soul grumbled. "Aren't you over that yet?"

He had never said anything so insensitive, so cold, so cruel. For a second Maka trembled with rage. Then her hand shot out, the slap echoing off the stones of the balcony. She glimpsed the red mark of her hand on Soul's cheek and the wounded fury in his gaze before she turned around and stormed off.


	4. Party, Part 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Soul Eater, the song "Stolen Dance" by Milky Chance, or any other brand name mentioned in the fiction. Enjoy the free advertising if you own one of those.

**Warnings: **language, teenangsters, teen drinking, arrrgh song lyrics (and I don't even know what the kids listen to nowadays), plot in what was supposed to be a series of one-shots...

**Thank You for the reviews!**

* * *

Party

Soul watched Maka walk off, every moment taking an eternity. He hesitated and hesitated, not going after her over and over, until she had disappeared into the crowd. Once again, he'd somehow managed to ruin everything.

The mix of vodka and RedBull spun his mind in eight different directions at once. Part of him wanted to chase Maka down and beg for forgiveness, or maybe fight with her again, or kiss her again, or all of those things. Part of him wanted to flee from her, to go and try to forget about what had just happened.

Before he could decide, Liz walked in, stretched to her full height and looking down on him even though he was taller these days.

"What the hell did you do to her?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

He shook his head. "I kissed her and she got mad at me," he mumbled. "I thought that's what I was s'posed to do."

Liz narrowed her eyes at him. He felt like a bug being examined and squirmed uncomfortably. "Have you been drinking?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Only like two," he lied. There had been three, and he'd downed them fast. The effects hadn't really hit until he looked Maka in the eye. Somehow that had ruined everything. Why did he keep ruining everything?

"Uh-huh," Liz answered, her voice flat and sarcastic. She kept staring at him and shaking her head, until he thought he was going to burst open under her gaze. Finally she said, "You ever think about how her _dad_ gets drunk and hooks up with sleazy chicks?"

"... shit," Soul clapped his hands over his face. No wonder she'd yelled at him. He was such an idiot.

"That's a pretty nasty-looking handprint on your face," she pointed out. "And I'm pretty sure Maka wouldn't slap _you_ for kissing her, even if you were drunk."

What did that even mean? He was so confused, and all the vodka swilling around his head wasn't helping. "I just... look, I know Kid was doing something extra-special, and I was scared about her leaving me for him and I didn't know what else I was supposed to do, and then I saw them dancing, and she was so happy, and then she came out here and she looked sad and I just..."

"Had grabbed her a few too many times tonight?" Liz supplied, her brow arching.

Soul's face burned. "She told you about that?" Oh, man, she had totally noticed. Now she thought he was a total sleaze just like her dad. "Oh, shit, she must hate me."

Liz snorted, halfway between a laugh and sheer contempt. "Lucky for you she thought it was your _phone_," she said. Something seemed to click in her head and she blinked. "Wait... you thought Kid was trying to ask her out?" The last three words came out as laughter and Soul shriveled up inside, ashamed.

"Well... yeah?"

She took a step forward and grabbed both of his shoulders, leaning to look in his eyes with a fierce expression. "If you tell anyone what I'm about to tell you, you won't have any man-parts to worry about poking Maka with, you got me?"

Terrified, he nodded meekly. Somehow he believed Liz was capable of following through that threat.

"No one can know, especially not the media, okay?" she hissed. "Kid and Patti have been together for a couple months. We can't exactly trot them out in front of the cameras, especially since she's basically one of his political aides. It would be a huge scandal and our opponents would claim he'd used his position to take advantage of her."

He kept nodding. "I won't tell anyone," he promised, and then he paused. "Wait, not even Maka?"

"Pssht, she already knows," Liz said, releasing his shoulders. "She helped get them together. _That's_ why Kid wanted to do something extra-nice for her."

It should have been a relief to know that Kid wasn't competing for Maka's attention, but instead Soul felt a sickly wave of loneliness wash over him. She hadn't said anything to him about it. Two of their closest friends, who had fought by their side more times than he could count, were dating and she hadn't told him? He'd thought she told him everything, but maybe she had other secrets, too.

"Why did he have to bring up Crona, though?" he asked, miserable and drunk and completely lacking a filter.

"Oh, no," Liz said, her eyes going wide. "You didn't say something about him, did you?"

Soul gulped. He had a feeling that his lecture was far from over.

* * *

"Maka, maybe you should take it easy," Tsubaki said, watching with worried eyes as Maka downed some fruity drink with an umbrella and a lot of rum.

"Why? Everything's already gone to hell," Maka answered, stabbing a piece of boozy pineapple with her umbrella. "Crona's gone, the voter movement's out, and Soul's being a giant ass, so why shouldn't I get drunk?" Her eyes burned and she reached for the glass of champagne her friend had been nursing, gulping the contents down in one fell swoop.

"Okay, but you don't want to puke or anything, do you?" Tsubaki asked in a reasonable tone.

She hesitated, and then sighed. Her friend was right. "He's just... so..." she struggled to find the words. "...so _stupid_. And mean."

Tsubaki patted her hand. "It's tough," she said, glancing over at where Black*Star was dancing with Angela, alternately letting her stand on his feet and tossing her too high in the air to be entirely responsible. "But I know that you and Soul care about each other a lot. I really do believe you'll be together forever," she continued, turning back to Maka. "It's just that forever is a long time. Are you sure you're ready to start now?"

Maka had never thought about things between her and Soul in that long term. She had sort of assumed they would graduate together from the DWMA and start working full-time on the staff, but hadn't considered if that was what he wanted. She hadn't considered how things might change as they grew up. She hadn't considered what _he_ might want at all.

The gravity of the idea sank through her mind like a bead in corn syrup, the slow descent tunneling through her thoughts.

"I... um...I don't _know_," she whispered, agonized as the dread rushed in. What if Soul didn't want to stay at the DWMA? What if he wanted to go do something else with his life, or met someone else, or be somewhere else? Was he going to leave her behind to become a musician or a performer or- worst of all- someone else's weapon?

Now she wanted to curl into a ball and lie on the cushions. Soul was her best friend, even closer than Tsubaki. He knew almost everything about her, except that she had more-than-friendly feelings for him. Losing him as her friend would be worse than never having him as a boyfriend. What had she been thinking, to jeopardize their friendship, their _partnership_, over some childish crush? Of course he wasn't going to settle for a girl like her, not when he could have any girl at the school, and probably anywhere else, too.

"Hey there," she heard someone speak up behind her. She turned around to see Harvar there, the second time that night. He gave her a small smirk, an expression so effortlessly cool Soul would kill to master it. "Did you need a rain-check on our dance?"

Tsubaki looked at her, but Maka focused on Harvar's face. She'd completely forgotten that they were supposed to dance earlier. Apparently Soul wasn't the only one being an insensitive ass that night.

"I'm so sorry, Harvar," she said, wobbling to her feet. "I'd love to dance."

He caught her hand as she tilted a bit too far in one direction and chuckled quietly. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" he asked, a very faint hint of amusement in his almost-toneless voice. Maka felt pleased that someone who seemed to be so unattached and emotionally aloof would seek her out twice on one night.

She glanced over her shoulder at Tsubaki, whose expression was still worried, but now a bit resigned. Why didn't her friend understand that it would be good to dance with someone? It was a party, and Harvar had gone through the trouble twice now. Besides, she could use a distraction from Soul and the voter movement and Crona and Harvar was offering her exactly that.

But as Harvar swept Maka onto the dance floor, she saw Tsubaki hurrying off to interrupt Kid and Patti's careful, politically-friendly dance.

"We don't see you very much around campus anymore," Harvar noted. His hand on her waist steered her, precise and methodical, around the dance floor. "I've heard that you're a huge help to Kid, though."

Maka felt her cheeks warming. "I just do what I can. Kid's the one who has to deal with everything."

"Well, he'd have it a lot harder if you weren't around, I bet," he said.

He spun her out and then back. Dizzy, she landed against his chest, closer than she'd meant to. His arm closed around her back, keeping her there, but she didn't feel any urge to resist. Actually, if anything, it felt nice. Maybe not as nice as it had felt to have Soul holding her that close, but it was still nice.

"Sorry," she giggled, her face burning with embarrassment and alcohol.

Harvar smirked. "It's okay."

The song changed to something slower, but neither of them moved apart. Maka found herself swaying in slow circles with Harvar, still hugged to his chest. The champagne and rum-fruit drink mixed together in sweet tingly sparkles through her mouth, and she thought of how it had felt when, for that brief second or two, Soul's lips had pressed against hers.

Why had he ruined her first kiss? Or maybe, she wondered, _she_ had ruined it. It had been Soul, and even if it hadn't been the way she wanted it, wasn't he the most important part?

She rested her cheek against Harvar's shoulder, breathing in the crisp, clean scent of his aftershave. His hands shifted to hold her closer still, but stayed on her waist. He was a perfect gentleman, and not a half-bad dancer, either. Not to mention that he didn't yell when she inevitably stepped on his toes.

Maybe the who didn't matter so much, she thought. Harvar was polite, he was straightforward, and he seemed interested. Maybe, Maka realized, she'd been too hung up on Soul to see that there were other guys out there.

* * *

Liz had managed to keep her voice down the whole time she lectured Soul, which somehow made it much more frightening and vicious. She was just getting to the part about how important Crona was to Maka when Tsubaki came rushing onto the balcony, her heels clicking hastily.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, Soul," she said.

Soul had never been so relieved.

"What's going on?" Liz asked, turning to look at Tsubaki. "Everything alright?"

Tsubaki shook her head, making her long hair ripple around her shoulders. Soul wondered, not for the first time, how Black*Star managed to sleep in the same room as her and not lose his mind. Maybe because Black*Star had so little mind to lose?

"Maka's drunk, like _really _drunk," she began.

"Then why'd you leave her?" Liz asked.

"I didn't," Tsubaki answered. "She left me. To dance. With Harvar."

"Aw, _shit_," said Liz.

He was missing something big, he was sure, but what mattered most was that Maka was dancing with someone else. Another weapon, no less. Sudden fury filled him, and Soul stalked past the girls and back into the party with his fists clenched.

It wasn't hard to spot them on the dance floor, not with how Maka's dress had etched itself on his mind. Every time he closed his eyes he saw it again.

_I want you by my side.  
__So that I never feel alone again._

The music set the beat for his steps as he made his way between people, toward the swaying pair on the dance floor.

_They've always been so kind..._  
_But now they've brought you away from me._

At the moment he couldn't remember the name of the song or the artist, but the singer's mellow voice swung through the rhythmic instrumentals as if it were his damned theme song. Soul felt like an absolute badass as he marched toward Maka and that bastard Harvar.

_I hope they didn't get your mind  
Your heart is too strong anyway_

His hand reached forward as he saw just how tightly Harvar was holding _his_ meister, _his_ Maka. How long had they been that close? He didn't want to know, but he had to stop it somehow.

_We need to fetch back the time  
They have stolen from us_

Soul watched his hand close around Harvar's shoulder to yank him back from Maka a bit. Maybe a bit harder than he needed to, because the other weapon stumbled slightly, causing a brief commotion among the nearby dancers.

"Sorry," he said, as much to Maka as to Harvar. The chorus started up as he turned toward her. "I wanted to know if I could cut in on this dance."

Maka looked from him to Harvar and back again, her smokey eyes wide, her angelic hair glinting in the flashing strobe lights. His heart sank as he wondered if it was really that difficult to decide between him and that snooty Harvar D. Eclair.

"I won't be offended," said Harvar, "If it's alright with Maka, of course."

With a semi-helpless shrug, Maka let Soul take her hand. He wasn't about to let this last opportunity go to waste as the lights glittered and flashed around them and the music drummed its sensual melody.

He pulled her close, chest to chest like they had been before the party, but this time he did it on purpose.

This time, he'd do things properly.


	5. Aftermath

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the things.

**Warnings: **language, teenangsters, teen drinking, politics, drunken hookups, hungover hookups, you get the idea

**_**Author's Note:**_ I am very sorry it took so long to update. Things have been very busy at home. I will try to get another update in before the weekend, when I go out of town. Also, **THANK YOU, REVIEWERS!** You guys are awesome.**

* * *

Aftermath

Maka woke up to a pounding head and crippling dry-mouth to find she couldn't move. She panicked, blinking in the dim light (which still somehow hurt her eyes) at the unfamiliar surroundings. When she turned her head, she smacked it against something solid, while something white and fuzzy caught in her eyes.

"OW, what the- _owwwww_," Soul went from yelling to wincing to whimpering in the space of a few words. His pained flinch away from the accidental headbutt released Maka partially from his hold.

They were snuggled tightly together on top of the covers in one of Kid's guest rooms, their legs tangled and Soul's weight halfway across her. Or at least, it had been until they clonked their heads together. It was taking a while to register, but when it did, she gasped and struggled up, hissing in pain.

"What the hell happened?" she groaned. Her head hurt too much to get angry at him. Hell, it hurt too much to even attempt remembering what happened.

Soul looked up at her through his mussed hair, his red eyes bleary on her face. "Are you wearing my shirt?" he asked.

A bit late, she saw the scar running up his bare chest and her face grew hot, which in turn made her mouth dry up further and her head ache more. Helpless against the hangover, she sank back down on the pillows next to him. A brief pat over her torso confirmed that she was wearing his shirt. At least she had underwear on, but that was all. She was afraid to find out what had happened the night before.

"I guess I am," she mumbled, staring at the canopy above them with its symmetrical design.

She felt him shift next to her with a rustling of blankets and pillow, and turned to find him nose-to-nose. "You look good in it," he said. He grimaced. "My mouth is really dry."

"Mine, too."

He stared at her for a moment. "I don't want to get up, though."

"I don't think I _can_ get up," she answered. It would've been funny if it wasn't so true. Her head spun and her stomach turned even thinking about it.

His fingers brushed against hers, then his hand closed around hers. "We used to hold hands all the time," he said, still staring at her across the pillow they were apparently sharing. His thumb brushed across her knuckles and then back. "What happened to that?"

"I don't know," she said sadly. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. "I miss it."

"Me, too." He kept staring at her, his eyes getting more intent and less drowsy. His thumb kept stroking her hand, purposeful as he shifted closer. "Hey, Maka?" he said softly, his tone questioning.

"Yeah, Soul?" Her heart raced and she found herself holding her breath again as the syllable of his name hung in between them.

Soul squeezed her hand again. "Can I kiss you?" he asked.

Her eyes widened through the throbbing in her skull and she inhaled sharply. Aside from the hangover and being in bed with him in her underwear and no memory of how she'd gotten that way, it was how she'd always wanted their first kiss to be. A worried piece of her mind pointed out that this might not be their first kiss, not if they'd woken up like _this_, but Maka's head was too achey and her heart was too fluttery to listen.

"Yes," she said, after a moment of staring back at him.

She looked down at his lips as he leaned closer, closing her eyes as his warm skin brushed over her mouth. Their hands were tightly wound together, and somehow he'd worked his fingers under her head to cup her cheek as he tilted his head towards her.

The loud rapping at the door made both of their eyes jerk open. Soul looked at her, still close, and sighed, his lips barely touching hers. It made his breath mix with hers in their mouths and despite the dryness, Maka shivered.

"Who is it?" he groaned, shifting back from Maka but not releasing her hand.

"You lovebirds better be decent," Liz's voice called through the door, "Cause we're coming in."

"Wait," Maka yanked up a corner of the blanket and tangled herself up trying to get underneath it. "Who's 'we?'"

Apparently Soul had the same idea, and somehow they managed to get under the covers before Liz burst in wearing her bathrobe and carrying a cup of coffee. She had dark circles under her eyes and her hair was mussed. Patti and Kid followed her in, likewise in robes and messy hair with coffee in hand. Tsubaki and Black*Star came last, the least tired-looking of the bunch, carrying a tray of food and a pitcher of orange juice.

"Oh, man, juice," Soul exclaimed tiredly, sitting up slightly to take the pitcher from Black*Star. He gulped down half of it and offered it to Maka, who was too thirsty to care that she was slurping directly from the container.

Kid sat in one of the plush chairs nearby and stared at them. Maka didn't notice it for a while, but then the sense of being watched all but burned into her forebrain and she looked at him over a piece of toast. His tired eyes and faint grimace were enough to tip her off that things were very bad, indeed.

"Maka," Kid said quietly. The bustle quieted and everyone stared at him. "I want you to know that I am deeply sorry for everything. I don't think any of us expected... things to _unfold_ as they did," he coughed delicately.

Her whole face blazed with embarrassed heat. She shifted slightly apart from Soul to glance at him and felt his hand tighten around hers, under the covers. His red eyes were fixed on Kid, intent to the point of being almost hostile. "Spit it out already," he growled at the shinigami.

Liz hung her head and passed her tablet to Maka, forcing her to release Soul's hand and take the delicate item. Her bleary eyes took a long time to register the images, and longer still to read the title.

**Kid's Top Political Advisor:  
Teen Drama Queen**

The headlining picture showed Soul on top of Harvar, holding the other weapon by his collar and readying a punch while Maka tried to pull him back. It was clear from the blood running out of Harvar's nose, so artfully captured by the photographer, that he'd already taken at least one good hit to the face. The whole thing looked like a disastrous prom scene from a movie she wouldn't want to see.

Too shocked and hungover to read the smaller font of the actual article, she scrolled down to look at the other pictures. There was another one of Soul's first punch, with Harvar's glasses flying off, while Maka rushed over to them. A photo of Harvar and Maka dancing very close together, and of him holding her hand while the statue was unveiled.

She didn't remember any of that happening.

More photos showed Soul and her kissing on the balcony, her slapping Soul, and her dancing with Kid. She remembered dancing with Kid at least, but nothing else was coming through the curtain of alcohol separating her from her memory of the night before.

"How the hell did someone get a picture of that?" Soul demanded, his arm around her and his cheek close to hers as he looked over her shoulder at the tablet. It should have felt wonderful, having him so close and warm, but as she looked at the spectacle of her birthday party on the news, it was impossible to enjoy much of anything.

Another photo showed her dancing with Soul, pressed up against him with her head tilted back to look into his eyes, their faces so close they looked like they were about to kiss. Her ears didn't fully register the string of curses from beside her as he saw the pictures, too, but she did pick up on the word "slideshow."

Just when she had thought it couldn't get any worse.

"Maybe you should just wait a bit before you look through that," Tsubaki said, trying to gently tug the tablet away from her. Maka held firm against her friend's efforts until she gave up.

The slideshow was titled _**Compiled Timeline**_, and it was far worse. She watched it all begin with the dance with Kid, and move into Harvar holding her hand, the balcony kiss and the slap that followed; her drinking, her dance with Harvar, and then Soul butting in.

Her dance with Soul had a whole series of photos from so many angles it could not have been just one photographer. There were long shots of the two of them holding tightly to one another as they spun around shockingly close-up pictures of their faces touching or almost-touching, always looking like they were on the verge of kissing again. There was even an image of him dipping her, his lips dangerously close to her bare neck.

Maka felt her head spinning, and the images blurred. The tablet slipped from her fingers and she slid down toward the pillows. She felt Soul's chest against her back, propping her up slightly, and his arms holding her steady.

"Get out," he growled. She could feel the words rumbling up through his chest. "Leave her alone for a while."

After that, she didn't hear or see much of anything as her mind sank back into unconsciousness.

* * *

He held onto Maka until his arms were numb, and then shifted her gently onto her side so he could lie behind her and wrap one arm around her waist. It was hard not to think about her wearing nothing but his shirt, snuggled up next to him, but his worries pushed such thoughts down.

What he remembered was a blur, all of it centered around her. He did remember kissing her, and being slapped, and he wanted to remember any other kisses before they had to see them in a news piece about Kid's bad judgment.

It infuriated him, how public their private lives were. It was like they weren't even allowed to be teenagers, to be _people_, because they were Kid's friends. Everything they did wrong was taken as ammunition against their friend, and broadcast on international news, even things that had nothing to do with Kid. A guy could only stand living under a microscope for so long before he cracked, right?

Soul honestly had no idea how Kid was still sane. He felt like he was going to lose his own mind and this was just a fraction of what his friend dealt with.

His head pounded and he buried his face in Maka's hair, still stiff and floral-scented with hairspray. He wanted to just lie there forever with her, or at least for a while longer. To waste the day snoozing and snuggling and talking, and kissing, of course. That would be best for everyone, but he knew that it wouldn't be an option. A veritable shitstorm was building and he and all his friends were about to get caught in it.

Maka stirred slightly, wriggling closer to him. He tightened his arms around her, tugging so her back pressed to his chest and tangling his legs with her bare ones.

"Mmm, Soul?" she asked sleepily.

"Yeah?" he asked, trying to distract himself and her from the news by brushing his lips very lightly against the side of her neck. They might as well enjoy doing some of the things they were photographed doing, right?

Her shiver was gratifying, and so was the way she clutched his hand. "That tickles," she said.

Tickle? Yeah, right. He nuzzled the skin behind her earlobe and then touched his mouth to the very edge of her jaw. "Does that tickle?" he whispered, opening his eyes slightly. From this angle he could see down the front of her- _his_\- shirt. Even as he tried not to be a perv and stare at her boobs, he found himself wondering if he'd seen them the night before and somehow forgotten.

"Did you..." her voice was small and quiet and he tore his eyes away from her chest, lifting his head to look at her face. Her cheeks were pink. "Did you still want to kiss me?" she asked so softly he almost didn't hear, even that close.

Their first kiss had been drunken and pathetic on the balcony and he knew this was his last chance to do it right. It was hard not to just grab her, but with a concentrated effort and every bit of self-control he had, Soul gently rolled her over to face him, brushing a few curling strands of hair away from her cheek.

He leaned across the pillow, closer and closer until he could feel the heat radiating from her mouth against his. "Yes," he said, and then he finally kissed her.

It started gently, just his lips against hers. She moved her lips slightly and he moved his, and everything else in the world fell away. Her mouth was soft and warm and he could taste the fruit juice on her tongue. Her fingers ran through his hair and one of her hands moved over his bare back.

How had they gone this long without doing this? Could they have been doing this all along? Soul would've wondered more, but Maka's mouth was too distracting. In fact, it was so distracting that he didn't hear the knock at the door, or the door opening.

They both heard Patti's _very loud_ voice, though. "THEY'RE AWAKE!"

Maka shrieked and dove under the covers, while Soul turned to glare at his fellow weapon. Patti just grinned.

All the rest of their friends came barging in a moment later. Tsubaki had an armload of files and books, while Liz muttered viciously into her phone. Kid frowned at a tablet, flicking through whatever he was reading, while Black*Star followed with another tablet, turning it this way and that and grinning slightly.

"Give me that," Soul snapped at his ninja friend, snatching the tablet.

He almost dropped it when he saw the picture Black*Star was looking at. Dimly, he recognized the background as Kid's upstairs hallway.

"Oh god," he heard Maka whimper next to him.

Soul wanted to cover the picture, to hide it from her, to save her from the embarrassment of having such an intimate image of them in the paper. It was too late, of course; she'd already seen it.

The picture managed to leave some details to the imagination, but was still graphic enough to imply those details. It was the sort of thing you'd see in a movie, during a particularly impassioned sex scene, and the photographer obviously knew that.

It would have been bad enough if they were just making out next to Kid's grand piano in the picture, but Maka was clearly seated on the keyboard, her legs around Soul's waist and their hips tight against each other. He tilted his head slightly and suddenly saw what Black*Star had been snickering about. One of Soul's hands gripped Maka's thigh were it wrapped around him, while the other hand was pressed over one of her boobs.

And even as he stared at the picture of their alcohol-fueled passion, he still couldn't remember all that had happened.


End file.
